The Missing Scene
by Sirius-Potter Fan
Summary: BEWARE SPOILERS! This is a scene I think is missing from OotP having to do with Harry and Snape. RR Tell me what you think! I got so many requests that I continue that I decided to go ahead and write a sixth year story.
1. prologue

The Missing Scene  
  
A/N: This is a scene I think is missing from OotP. R/R Tell me what you think! And, of course, I own nothing.  
  
June 24 (last day of school before summer vacation)  
  
Harry nervously approached the door to Snape's office. He had given a lot of thought to Snape ever since Sirius' death. Though his first instinct was to blame Snape for letting Sirius leave Grimmauld Place, he knew that his godfather would never have agreed to stay there when Harry's life was in danger. He had felt compelled to take action, just as Harry had when he thought Sirius was being tortured by Voldemort. Harry had also realized that it was his own fault that he hadn't done well in Occlumency lessons. He had let his desire to see what was beyond the mysterious door keep him from making a real attempt to shut Voldemort out of his mind. Perhaps if he had. . . He shook his head to clear the painful thought. This wasn't what he had come to talk to Professor Snape about. He had come to talk about what he had seen in the Penseive. He took a deep breath and knocked on the office door.  
  
"Enter," he heard Snape say. Harry slowly opened the door and walked inside the office. Snape was looking intently at a piece of parchment on his desk. Harry closed the door behind him and stood staring at the dark curtain of greasy hair that obscured Snape's face from view. Snape looked up from his paper and said, "Potter. I thought I told you never to set foot in this office again."  
  
"Yes, Professor, you did, but I've come anyway. I want to apologize," Harry said.  
  
"Apologize?" said Snape mockingly, "By all means, Potter, go ahead. THIS I am anxious to hear."  
  
"Well. . . I'm sorry I invaded your privacy, sir, and I'm very sorry if I embarrassed you. But I'm not sorry I saw what was in the Penseive," he said.  
  
In a cold and dangerous voice Snape said, "When you apologize to someone, POTTER, you are supposed to say you are sorry, not that you are glad about what happened. I hope you had a good laugh, Potter. Now GET OUT."  
  
"But Professor, that's not what I meant. I wasn't laughing. I just meant I was glad I FOUND OUT THE TRUTH," Harry began shouting to be heard over Snape's angry "Get out, GET OUT, GET OUT."  
  
"I'm NOT leaving," said Harry. "Listen to me. Seeing that memory of what my father did to you didn't make me happy, it made me SICK. I'm sorry my father was so mean to you. He had no right to treat you like that."  
  
"What?" said Snape, "Do you expect me to believe that you feel SORRY for me? That you didn't take SATISFACTION at seeing me humiliated? Come, Potter, I know better than that."  
  
"Maybe I would've enjoyed seeing you humiliated now, as you have enjoyed humiliating me ever since I arrived at Hogwart's," said Harry pointedly, "But I didn't enjoy seeing it then. You hadn't DONE anything. They were just bored. I never knew my father was such a jerk. I'm really sorry."  
  
Snape just stared inscrutably at him. "Well," said Harry, "That's all. I-I guess I'll be going. Have a good summer, Professor." He turned to leave but stopped when Snape said, "Potter."  
  
"Yes," said Harry, turning around hopefully.  
  
Snape walked around his desk towards Harry. "Remember to practice clearing your mind, especially before bed each night. In September, we will resume Occlumency lessons," he said, handing Harry a thick book called Defending Your Mind.  
  
"Yes, sir," said Harry. Then he turned and left the office. 


	2. author's note

A/N: There will be more to this story, I promise. I'm still working on where I want to go with it. I will post the next chapter as soon as it's done. 


	3. Um?

Thanks to Lili, astralalex, Lady Evanescence, Cassa-Andra, Pandora15, Tracy, Alli, Helga243, DayOwl, Phoenix Tears Type 6, StarGazer, Jeanne, Animegirl18 aka Hoshiko, wesleyian-freak, and potterfan2229 for the reviews! Feedback soothes the soul.  
  
Astralalex- to answer your question this is definitely NOT Snape/Harry slash. I'm a Harry/Draco fan myself. The idea of Snape/Harry disturbs me, at least while Harry is still a teenager.  
  
Chapter 2- Um?  
  
Harry circled the Quidditch Pitch, high above the other players. He was searching for the snitch. He HAD to get to it before Malfoy did. He watched as Malfoy dodged a bludger, then returned to sweeping his eyes over every inch of the pitch. When his eyes came back to Malfoy the Slytherin went into a dive so steep it looked suspiciously like a Wronski Feint.  
  
At the last second the boy pulled up but did not reach for the snitch or stop his broom. Instead he took off out of the pitch and was out of sight in moments. The crowd gasped at this odd behavior, but fell silent at the sight of the dark hooded figures slowly drifting toward them. Dementors. Harry could feel the heat draining from his body. He fought the cold and the waves of terror washing over him and tried to summon a happy memory to create his Patronus.  
  
He reached into his robes for his wand, but it was gone. He watched in horror as the dementors drifted over the crowds. They seemed to be searching for something. Or someONE. Harry struggled to stay on his broomstick as one of the dementors stopped before Hermione. She was frozen with fear.  
  
Harry tried to fly to her but could barely think clearly. Images of his parents screaming, of Sirius sliding through the veil, were nearly overwhelming him. The dementor reached out a cold, dead hand to grasp Hermione by the throat. It brought her closer and Harry could see it was preparing to administer the final kiss. He HAD to stop it. Everyone was frozen. There was no one else to help Hermione.  
  
He concentrated all his efforts onto willing his broom to move. It slid slowly forward and Harry almost cried with relief. He was still so far away though. The dementor seemed to be moving in slow motion. So did Harry. Then Harry felt the cold increase and realized the other dementors were circling closer to him. His broom stopped. He was frozen now too.  
  
The world went black for a moment and when he could see again the dementor was lifting its head and lowering Hermione to the stands. Looking in her eyes Harry knew that he was too late. They were empty. She looked like a zombie. The dementors drifted away, which allowed Harry to recover and speed toward Hermione. He grabbed her and looked into her face, but she was empty. He was too late.  
  
He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her bushy hair as the tears came. He felt arms surround them both and a wet face press into his neck. He shook with the force of Ron's sobs as he struggled for breath. He felt air explode from his lungs at the sound of a high pitched, terrible keening noise.  
  
He lifted his head from the cushion of Hermione's shoulder to find the source of such a horrible sound. The noise became louder and clearer; he could now distinguish the sound as one word being screamed again and again. "HERMIONE!!!!!!" Suddenly he realized that it was him that was screaming.  
  
Harry sat bolt upright in bed, still screaming Hermione's name. He was covered in sweat, panting, and crying. He grabbed the trashcan from beside the bed and retched repeatedly until there was nothing left in him. Then he curled on his side and tried to stop shaking.  
  
He was thankful for the special silencing charm Fred and George had sent him, somehow knowing he would need it. He would hate for the Dursley's to see him like this. Besides, no matter what Dumbledore said, they would have kicked him out of Number 4 Privet Drive if he had woken them up with his screams. Especially three nights in a row.  
  
He almost knew what to expect now. After the first night, when he had dreamed of Ginny Weasley dying a slow and painful death at the hands of Lucius Malfoy, he had kept a trash can by the bed to avoid having to clean the vomit off the floor.  
  
After watching Ron's torture and mutilation by Death Eaters he had given up on the idea of sheets and blankets. The sour smell clung to them and Aunt Petunia would be suspicious if suddenly his sheets were dirty on a daily basis.  
  
He lay on the bare mattress now taking deep breaths and trying to remove the images of Hermione receiving the Kiss from his mind. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. He couldn't bear to watch more people he cared about dying. . . or worse. Even if they were just dreams. Only Harry knew they weren't just dreams. They were "gifts." From Voldemort.  
  
However hard Harry tried to clear his mind each night it never seemed to work. He had been reading the book Snape had given him and had discovered that summoning a happy memory, as when using a Patronus spell, was sometimes helpful in Occlumency as well. He had been trying, but too many of his happy memories led him into remembering other things. Like the image of Sirius knocked to the floor by Bellatrix's curse, sliding. . . sliding. . .  
  
Out of nowhere a small box appeared before Harry's eyes. It was sitting on the mattress in front of his tear soaked face. It surprised him so much he let out a yell and promptly fell off the bed. 


	4. Help from a friend?

Thanks to thirteen ravens, liz, Anora, xikum, Lady Javert, and Kara Dia for the reviews! Thanks Kara Dia for pointing out the misspellings. I went back and fixed them.  
  
Chapter 3- Help from a. . . friend?  
  
Harry lay still a moment fearing that he had fallen asleep again and that this was the beginning of another nightmare. He pinched himself and it hurt. That didn't mean much as these were no ordinary dreams, but he realized there was no way he could wake himself up either way.  
  
Whatever this was, hiding from it wasn't going to help. He sighed and slowly raised himself to peer onto the bed. The box was still sitting where it had been when he fell. It did not appear sinister. It was small, square, and black, tied with a dark blue ribbon and waiting innocently for Harry's curiosity to win out over his fear.  
  
After a few moments Harry climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged facing the box. He took a deep breath and picked it up. It was moderately heavy. He pulled one end of the blue ribbon, carefully untying it and laying it aside. He lifted the lid and looked inside to find a stoppered bottle and an envelope addressed to him. Curiouser and curiouser.  
  
He brought out the letter first and opened it with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help wondering which of his friends would be the next to die in this version of his own personal Hell. What he found surprised him out of his fear and he read the letter a second time to be sure his eyes were not deceiving him.  
  
Mr. Potter,  
  
Your unaided attempts to keep the Dark Lord from invading your mind have obviously failed. Enclosed you will find a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Swallow the full dose before sleeping and the bottle will refill itself when next you require it. Continue practicing, but DO NOT go to sleep without taking the potion.  
  
Professor Snape  
  
SNAPE was sending him mail? SNAPE was concerned about how he slept at night? SNAPE was voluntarily trying to HELP him? The world must be coming to an end. How had he KNOWN? He must be somewhere nearby. Harry went to the window and looked out into the moonlit yard. He searched for some sign of Snape, but found none.  
  
Wait! Dumbledore must have put him up to this. Of course, Dumbledore always knew everything, somehow. He must have told Snape to make the potion and send it to Harry. But how had the box just arrived out of thin air? Hermione would know. It was probably in *Hogwart's: A History*.  
  
Thinking of Hermione brought back his earlier dream. He suddenly realized that he was exhausted. He hadn't gotten any real sleep in three days. There would be plenty of time to ponder this new development in the morning. All he wanted now was to crawl into bed knowing that the nightmares could no longer touch him.  
  
He brought out the bottle of potion, unstoppered it, and drained the contents, which tasted oddly like cinnamon. He put the bottle and letter back in the box and hid it under a loose floorboard with the chocolate frogs Ron had sent him. Then he grabbed a thick blanket, climbed into bed and fell asleep immediately.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
It had been about two weeks since Harry had received the potion from Snape. As promised the bottle refilled itself whenever Harry needed to sleep, though not necessarily when he *wanted* to sleep. If he was trying to sleep only to escape his thoughts the bottle remained frustratingly empty.  
  
There had been no more dreams since the potion had arrived. After the first few nights Harry no longer dreaded bedtime. He continued his attempts to clear his mind, not only at night before the potion took effect, but also during the day. Sometimes it was easy. For instance, lying in the bushes in the backyard he would breathe deeply and relax while concentrating on the relatively safe memory of finally getting to read his letter from Hogwart's after his Uncle Vernon had confiscated or destroyed what must have been thousands of them.  
  
It was less easy when he had been provoked by one of the Dursleys, which happened all too often. Once, Dudley and his friends had chased him up a tree and stood at the bottom taunting him with foul remarks about his parents. It had taken everything he had to refrain from breaking the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery by hexing the lot of them.  
  
He had leaned against the tree and tried to relax as he did in the bushes by taking deep breaths and attempting to ignore the boys. He thought about Hagrid using his pink umbrella to give Dudley a pig's tail. That had been one of the best birthday presents he'd ever gotten. After a few minutes Dudley and his gang had gotten bored with his failure to respond as usual and wandered off.  
  
He continued to use this technique whenever Aunt Petunia compared him unfavorably to her "Duddikins" or when Uncle Vernon was being particularly nasty. The more he practiced the easier it was. It also had the added benefit of frustrating all three Dursleys to no end, seeing as half their enjoyment in being so vile to him was in watching him turn red and attack them and then punishing him for it.  
  
On July 26th, six days before his sixteenth birthday, Harry received what had become an annual invitation from the Weasleys to spend the rest of the summer with them at the Burrow. He sent a reply back with Pigwidgen telling them he would be more than thrilled to escape Privet Drive and to see them all again. The Weasleys were the closest thing to a family that he had except for Hermione who would also be spending August with the Weasleys.  
  
The next day Harry was lying on his bed reading his Occlumency textbook when there was a knock on his bedroom door. This was very unusual. The Dursleys never called him for meals; he was just expected to know when they were and to show up promptly or starve. The rest of the time they preferred not to see or hear him unless it was to torture him, but lately that was a moot point.  
  
Harry walked to the door and opened it to find his Uncle Vernon looking at him nervously. "Yes? What is it?" asked Harry when Uncle Vernon remained silent.  
  
"You've a visitor, boy. He's downstairs," Uncle Vernon was being oddly polite.  
  
"A visitor?" Harry asked. He decided it must be someone from the Order, Tonks or Mad Eye Moody perhaps, who had threatened the Dursleys at the train station in June. They were the only visitors he could imagine who would cause such a change in his Uncle.  
  
"Yes," now Uncle Vernon was whispering, "It's your godfather."  
  
Harry's eyes went wide with shock. Sirius? Here? Alive? How? When? Wow! None of that mattered. All that mattered was that Sirius was alive. He raced down the stairs into the living room forgetting everything except that Sirius was somehow here at Privet Drive.  
  
Harry's face fell and his stomach turned when he entered the room and saw that it was not Sirius who had come to see him after all, but Snape. Snape was standing with his back to Harry staring at the fireplace and looking rather uncomfortable. Harry was overcome with disappointment, which he tried to wipe from his face before Snape turned to face him.  
  
There was a loud crash from upstairs and the sound of a door slamming. Harry guessed the Dursleys were hiding in fear because they had mistaken Severus Snape for Harry's murderous escaped convict godfather. He had never even thought of telling them that Sirius was dead. He could barely talk about that with his friends let alone the Dursleys.  
  
At the sound of the crash Snape turned around and found Harry staring at him. "Mr. Potter."  
  
"Pr-Professor Snape? What--?"  
  
"Am I doing here? I have come to take you back to school."  
  
"School? But why? I-"  
  
"Dumbledore has decided that you are to resume learning Occlumency as soon as possible so that you can concentrate properly with no distractions from other classes, Quidditch, or from Granger and Weasley." This was said in a tone that indicated this was a perfectly normal occurrence  
  
Harry gaped for a moment and then nodded. "I'll go pack my things," he said numbly. He was going back to Hogwart's with Snape to spend the rest of the summer learning Occlumency. With Snape. No trip to the Burrow. No fun with Ron and Hermione. Just Snape.  
  
He had a fleeting thought that maybe he had fallen asleep without taking his potion and was currently having a nightmare courtesy of Lord Voldemort. He sighed as he began packing his trunks. Unfortunately, he knew he was not that lucky. 


End file.
